DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 1

by Phillip Strang

  ‘Very well,’ Isaac conceded, ‘he’s not my kind of person.’

  ‘You would have preferred Commissioner Shaw?’

  ‘You knew him?’

  ‘Very well. He did a good job. Confidentially, there’s a move to unseat Davies,’ Brice said.

  ‘And your invective on your broadcast?’

  ‘In part it’s levelled against him; in part against you. It may be that you don’t have the necessary support, office politics, that sort of thing.’

  ‘We have the support we need,’ Isaac said. He wasn’t about to defend himself by apportioning blame when it wasn’t correct.

  ‘Goddard gives you what you want?’

  ‘Yes, he does. I’ve known him for a long time.’

  ‘That man knows how to play politics, though not so successfully with Davies in charge.’

  ‘He knows that. And besides, you took us to task, not so much Davies.’

  ‘I still need a conclusion to why Amelia was murdered.’

  ‘And by whom.’

  ‘Amelia had her faults, and sometimes she’d drive me crazy. Overindulged as a child, I’m afraid, and her mother was not a good role model.’

  ‘There are no guarantees in bringing a child up. One of my school friends, good family, good parents, ended up knifed to death around the back of Paddington Station.’

  ‘Was he a good adult?’

  ‘He was a gang leader, no great loss to society. I grew up in a similar environment, and I ended up a policeman.’

  ‘Even so, I still feel some guilt about Amelia.’

  ‘There’s no need for guilt. You’ve given us a pasting on the radio. What can you give us by way of recompense?’ Isaac said.

  ‘What else is there to tell you? There are no great secrets attached to me, and Amelia was old enough to choose her own life. If my daughter were shown to be less than respectable, it would not reflect on me, and besides, I’m reaching an age where I’m ready to give it away.’

  ‘And do what?’

  ‘They’ll pay plenty for my life story, the classic rags to riches.’

  ‘Was it rags?’

  ‘Not really, but they’ll gloss over that in the editing. I grew up middle class, but people don’t want to hear that.’

  ‘You’ve covered that up well,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I’m trusting you with a lot.’

  ‘My confidence is guaranteed.’

  ‘I’ve checked you out. You have some influential admirers. I’m surprised you’re not a superintendent,’ Brice said.

  ‘So am I,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I could be the murderer.’

  ‘You’re not.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The deaths were not amateur, which means someone paid for your daughter’s and Christine Devon’s murders. And then, we have Christine Devon’s son being murdered, apparently because he cheated one of the gangs.’

  ‘You believe there is a common thread tying all the murders together?’

  ‘It’s a thought. Samuel Devon was involved with the gangs before his mother was murdered, and Rasta Joe, another murder victim, was a villain.’

  ‘What do you know about Quentin Waverley?’ Brice asked. The two men were sitting back. A dessert had been declined, coffee was on its way.

  ‘Amelia was frightened of him for some reason.’

  ‘Quentin is an ambitious man, but I respect him enormously. I would never suspect him of anything untoward, but if Amelia were frightened of him, then it would have only been for her good. He’d not harm her.’

  Why?’

  ‘Because he still loved her. If Gwen, her so-called friend, hadn’t engineered the situation, he would have married Amelia.’

  ‘You know this?’

  ‘I observe, and besides, he told me.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Whenever I see him. He loved both Gwen and Amelia, but Gwen made sure that he married her, and now he’s in line to take over Happold’s merchant bank.

  ‘What can you tell me about the father-in-law? We’ve not met him yet.’

  ‘You don’t want to.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ The coffee had arrived, and Brice was pulling out his credit card.

  ‘A charming man, charming to your face. He’s the toughest banker I’ve ever come across. If he had chosen politics instead of banking, he’d have been prime minister. Mind you, he’s made plenty of money, and he’s in for a peerage in the next Honours List.’

  ‘Could he have been involved in the murder of your daughter?’

  ‘His reputation is all too important to become involved with crime.’

  ‘As a merchant banker, he must have come across the occasional rogue.’

  ‘No doubt, but Happold’s always remained detached. Plenty will admit to a grudging respect for the man, but there are others who detest him.’

  ‘Why detest him?’

  ‘Those who’ve lost their money and then found out that Happold wasn’t that accommodating. You know the adage, if you owe the bank a pound, you’re in trouble; if you owe them a million, the bank’s in trouble.’

  ‘He takes advantage when you are down, is that it?’

  ‘Not so crudely, but if you struck a deal with him, then you had to honour it. There are a few people in the city who are doing it tough because of him.’

  ‘Any skeletons in Happold’s cupboard?’

  Brice put his credit card in his wallet and stood up. ‘I’m on the television tonight. I must go.’

  ‘Another diatribe about the police?’

  ‘Not tonight. I’d suggest you meet with Happold, but don’t expect too much. Personally, I don’t think he’s involved, although I’d not be sorry to see him go down.’

  ‘You’ve had problems with him?’

  ‘I’ve run close to the wind on a few occasions. Happold’s not the sort of man to throw a rope to someone drowning.’

  ‘His daughter?’

  ‘Like father; like daughter. She was great friends with Amelia once: clubbing, getting drunk, but after the Quentin episode, I don’t think they spoke again.’

  ‘Did it upset Amelia?’

  ‘It did, but she put on a brave face. Gwen wouldn’t have cared.’

  ***

  Isaac was aware that time was working against him and his team. Jeremy Brice may have been agreeable over a meal, even giving him some background information on one person they had not interviewed so far, but Isaac could see that Brice was a political animal, the same as Commissioner Davies, the same as DCS Goddard, and the man was opening up for a reason.

  If, as Brice had alluded, the knives were out for the commissioner, why had he told him, a DCI? Did the man trust him, even after he had criticised the investigation into his daughter’s death, and by default him, or did he throw in the commissioner as a diversionary tactic? It was a point that needed considering. On reflection, the lunch had been about others, not about Brice. Maybe that was what the man intended all along.

  Back at Challis Street, DCS Goddard was in Isaac’s office. ‘How did it go?’ the superintendent said.

  ‘According to Brice, his broadcast was aimed indirectly at Davies, not at us.’

  ‘Do you believe him?’ Goddard asked. Isaac could see that the man was on edge.

  ‘Not totally. He plays the game well.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’ll sing your praises while at the same time holding a knife to your back. He confirmed that they’re trying to get rid of Davies.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The government is my assumption. He wasn’t very specific.’

  ‘They are, but Davies continues to get out from under. The man’s fighting back, and we’re the front line.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘I’ve been summoned to the inner sanctum.’

  ‘To Davies’s office?’

  ‘Today, and you’re coming.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Davies has asked for both of us.’
<
br />   ‘I’ve a murder investigation to conduct,’ Isaac said, knowing it was a futile protest.

  ‘We leave within ten minutes. And the Isaac Cook charm is not going to work on this man. You’d better have some good answers.’

  ‘Will he be listening?’

  ‘Probably not, but so far we’ve kept him out of our business. Let’s hope we can continue to, but you’re no nearer to solving these murders.’

  ‘We’ve charged two men with the murder of Rasta Joe.’

  ‘What does that matter? Davies won’t be interested in the murder of a criminal. He’ll want to know about Amelia Brice and the other woman. It’s their murders that are important, not some would-be Rastafarian who dealt in drugs and women. Men like him die all the time.’

  ‘Ten minutes. I’ll be ready,’ Isaac said. Goddard left the office.

  Isaac walked over to where Bridget was seated. ‘Could you prepare a report on George Happold. I need to meet him.’

  ‘Give me two hours,’ Bridget said.

  ‘If I’m still standing by then.’

  ‘Tough day?’

  ‘We’re meeting with the commissioner.’

  ‘I’ll wish you the best of luck, sir.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Isaac left and went out of the office. Goddard was calling him from down the corridor.

  ***

  Commissioner Alwyn Davies, a name that struck fear into many in the Met, especially DCS Goddard, was agreeable when Goddard and his DCI entered his office at Scotland Yard.

  ‘I thought we should meet to discuss Jeremy Brice’s radio programme,’ Davies said. It was Isaac’s first time in the office, but not for his DCS who had been there many times when Commissioner Shaw had been in charge.

  Isaac and Goddard took seats on their side of Davies’s desk. The man was methodical, Isaac could see, in that the desktop was clear apart from a laptop, and a pile of documents to one side. It was not often that inspectors were called into the commissioner’s office for a discussion, and Davies’s welcoming speech when he took on the position – about an open-door policy, just knock on my door – had been rhetoric. The man’s usual manner was to be dismissive of anyone who could not help his career or could not show him the necessary deference.

  Richard Goddard could, but Davies did not want it from him; Isaac could try, but he was not a natural, and on the occasion when Davies had entered Homicide in Challis Street, he’d had gone on the defensive, while Bridget had given the man tea.

  ‘DCI Cook’s met with Brice,’ Goddard said.

  ‘And what did he say?’ Davies looked over at Isaac.

  A truthful answer would have been to say that it was part of a plot to oust the man asking the question and to send him back to where he had come from. That, Isaac knew, would not have been wise. ‘He said that it was a drive for ratings, the need to raise the heat on his target for the day,’ he said instead.

  ‘And we were it?’

  ‘According to Brice, we were.’

  ‘Chief Superintendent, if your people conduct their investigations as badly as they lie, then it explains why the murder rate in your part of London continues to rise.’

  ‘But…’ Goddard, unsure what to say, just mumbled.

  ‘Now look here, Cook. I’ve just about had enough of you and your department,’ Davies said. He was no longer sitting down but was standing up and leaning forward, his two hands firmly planted on his side of the desk. ‘I’ve had to intervene with you before, and your DCS is unable to see the wood for the trees. I brought in one of my people once before. I’ll do it again. And now I have this fool Brice making a fool of us, belittling the Met, and all because you can’t find out who killed his daughter. I am not going to let my position and those of my people be undermined by you two.’

  ‘Sir, this is grossly unfair,’ Goddard said in a moment of terror. He had hoped that the visit would at least be cordial and that the commissioner would recognise that there were acceptable standards of behaviour.

  ‘You’ve got a mouth. It took you long enough,’ Davies said. ‘You may have had your head up the rear end of Shaw, but it doesn’t wash with me. I want results, the same as Brice. I don’t need him sounding off against my team and me.’

  ‘That is not what Brice said when I met with him,’ Isaac said, attempting to deal with the situation. Goddard could only see an angry man trying a last-ditch attempt to rally support, to stack the Met with people who would help him to stay in his position.

  ‘Did you hear my interview with him?’ Davies said.

  ‘We did, sir,’ Goddard said.

  ‘And what did you think?’ The commissioner had resumed his seat.

  ‘He was tough.’

  ‘It was a setup. I walked into a trap set by others. Goddard, did you know this? Did you and your friend Lord Shaw feed Brice information to use against me?’

  ‘Commissioner, Jeremy Brice has a research team behind him,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I know that, but he was baiting me with information that could not have come from them.’

  ‘Was he, sir?’ Isaac asked. If Davies were not the commissioner of the Met, Isaac would have said the man was paranoid. He wondered why he and his DCS were in the commissioner’s office. If it was a reprimand, then why? And besides, that wasn’t the commissioner's function. That would have been for a commander to deal with. And if it was to give him support, then it was a waste of time. Neither he nor his DCS had any respect for the man who had single-handedly diminished the respect of the general public for their police force; a man who had replaced key members in the senior hierarchy with his people through an adroit undermining of their positions.

  ‘You’d like me out of here,’ Davies said. ‘Well, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction. I’m bringing in my team to take over. Firstly, Goddard, you’re out. You can take leave if it makes you feel more comfortable, and as for you, DCI, you’ve got a new boss.’

  ‘Who?’ Isaac asked, knowing the answer already.

  ‘Superintendent Caddick, a man who’s attained his promotion through sheer professionalism, not through sucking up to his superiors.’

  ‘You don’t have the authority to remove me,’ Goddard said.

  ‘I’m the commissioner. I do what is necessary, and I’m not waiting for a committee to debate it or the time for you to ask your political friends to intervene. If they want to take me on, then I’m ready for the battle. Goddard, you’ve got one day to clear your office. Either you take extended leave while I figure out what to do with you, or there’s a job down in Public Relations for you.’

  ‘At least I’ll have company,’ Goddard said.

  ‘Is that insubordination?’ Davies said. Isaac could see that the man was pleased with himself. Isaac looked across at his DCS, could only see a defiant man. He knew that he’d be the better man for being unceremoniously dumped.

  ‘Not from me, sir. I’ll go quietly. DCI Cook will solve this case, and I’ll make sure that he receives the credit. If you are intent on following this course, then it will be your responsibility if anything goes wrong.’

  ‘That’s a threat,’ Davies said.

  ‘It’s not, sir. It’s a reality. There are decisions in life which are key turning points. You, sir, have just made one of those. I hope that you are able to deal with the consequences.’

  ‘Goddard, you’ll roast in the fires of hell for this. And you, DCI Cook, mention one word of this outside of this office, and you’ll be back out on the beat in uniform.’

  ‘I will do my duty, sir. Seth Caddick will have no reason to complain about my policing. He will be welcomed with all the due deference that his position deserves.’

  ‘Garbage. You’ll be doing whatever you can to get him out of Goddard’s chair.’

  Both Isaac and Goddard sat quietly. Two minutes later, after a final blast of invective from the commissioner, they were both preparing to leave the building.

  ‘Tough, sir,’ Isaac said to his DCS.

  ‘He’s exceeded his
authority,’ Goddard said.

  ‘You’ll take action against him?’

  ‘I’ll register a case. In the meantime, find out who these murderers are.’

  ‘And you’ll be on leave.’

  ‘Not me. I’ll be down in Public Relations. This is the best thing that could have happened. The gloves are off. Once Davies stands up to move forward to strike the first blow, he’ll realise that his opponent is twice the size of him.’

  ‘He’s already struck the first blow,’ Isaac said.

  ‘That wasn’t the first blow. That was the verbal sparring at the weigh-in.’

  Chapter 18

  Isaac, smarting from Davies’s drubbing but still the SIO of Challis Street Homicide, had only one option: wrap up the current investigation. His senior, Detective Chief Superintendent Richard Goddard, did not even have that luxury: he was out, and Caddick was in.

  Both Isaac and Goddard knew that the man was a walking disaster, and his being in charge of Homicide was going to cause problems.

  ‘Don’t rile the man when he appears. Davies’s days are numbered, he knows that,’ Goddard said.

  ‘But why, and why you?’

  ‘I’m the conduit to Lord Shaw. Davies believes that if he isolates me, then he’s secured extra time. And he’s made a tactical error. I didn’t feed anything to Brice; I barely know the man. It would have to be coming from someone higher than me.’

  ‘Lord Shaw?’

  ‘Not likely. He wouldn’t sully his hands with such matters, and besides, the man’s ethical. He’ll play it by the book.’

  ‘But if others do it?’

  ‘Then he’ll probably sit back and enjoy the ride.’

  ‘And see the Met go down the drain?’

  ‘It’s not going down the drain; it’s going through a period of change, that’s all. Davies is an unfortunate consequence.’

  ‘What will you do, sir?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘I’ll go and clear my desk and report to Public Relations.’

  ‘Are you still in line to take over Counter Terrorism Command?’

  ‘That’s the word. If it’s going to be rough for a while, I’ll just hang on tight. I suggest you do the same.’

  The two men separated on their arrival at Challis Street – Goddard to his office to tidy up, although Isaac knew the man would finish his current work and ensure a comprehensive handover to his successor, and Isaac to his office to tell his team what was about to happen.